


Closer

by anastasiapullingteeth



Series: Not A Wasted Heart [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Apothiromantic, Emotions, Intimacy, Mentions Of Disordered Eating And Sleeping, Overworking, Touch Aversion, amatonormativity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-05 19:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiapullingteeth/pseuds/anastasiapullingteeth
Summary: Enjolras is having a hard time handling academic life and all of his mother’s demands. He really needs someone to lean on, but how is he supposed to ask for a little bit of comfort without being misinterpreted, or worse, accidentaly leading someone on?A sequel of Outsider [AAW16].





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> **Amatonormativity:** The assumption that a central, exclusive, amorous relationship is normal for humans, in that it is a universally shared goal, and that such a relationship is normative, in the sense that it should be aimed at in preference to other relationship types [and, therefore, prioritized].

Enjolras, pretentiously, has always considered himself a capable, energetic young man, but as the midterm exams approach, he feels progressively drained. It’s then when he notices it’s becoming harder, almost impossible, to keep up with school work, the debate club, and all the extra curriculum activities his mother forces him to go to. The pressure is pushing him back into those dreadful, restless nights and, when he actually manages to sleep, he has nightmares. He knows he’s quickly reaching a breaking point, and the exhaustion is finally getting to him, but he can’t do anything about it.

Seeing his friends, he thinks they are in a better shape, if he’s being honest. Most of them have a bunch of work over their shoulders, just like him, but somehow they seem to be handling it more gracefully than him. Enjolras doesn’t understand what's their secret is and that just adds up to the feeling of inadequacy that hunts him and prevents him from sleep. It's almost like they have the secret to eternal life and he's the only one dying.

He thinks he catches a glimpse of said secret in Marius and Cosette hugging each other outside the Café Musain. Enjolras is heading over there to hold one of their meetings when he spots them; usually, he avoids them -along with anyone with a romantic partner, to be honest-, but this time it catches his attention to see Marius at the verge of tears while he listens to his girlfriend’s words. Enjolras stops mid step and Cosette catches him staring, but instead of calling him out of it, she smiles saying they’ll see him inside in a minute. As Enjolras walks next to them, he hears Marius talking about the exams and all the work he has to do in the upcoming days; it occurs to Enjolras that he’s never seen his friend that vulnerable.

He arrives to the second floor where they had a room for the debate club, and says hi to Combeferre, who, surprisingly, got there before Enjolras. He’s reading an enormous book and the blond doesn’t want to interrupt him, so he lowers his bag a few tables away and pulls out his own notes. He tries to focus on his work, but can’t stop thinking about what he saw outside, not because he has something against boys crying, but because he can’t fanthom the idea of opening up to someone like that. He’s shocked, but more than anything, he’s envious.

Enjolras isn’t good with relationships, he knows that. Not only he’s aromantic, asexual, and romance repulsed -which makes it difficult to meet new people and form close relationships-, but he’s also a lousy friend with terrible social skills. He can't relate to most of their experiences, and that isolates him from their group; when they aren't working on school stuff or the debate club, their conversations tend to derive towards their romantic and sexual lives and he, more often than not, remains in silence. Grantaire has smoothed things out for him with the incredibly large variety of topics he talks about, but he can't always be there and Enjolras refuses to be a burden; he considers himself capable of defend himself, but sometimes he wishes he didn't feel so... out of place.

The door of the back room opens and, one by one, his friends join him and Combeferre. Enjolras studies them through the bangs of blond curls covering his face until they reach their seats. Marius looks a lot better now than he did outside the Café, and that's how Enjolras falls into account that that's maybe their secret: all of his friends are already paired up, they have someone to go to when they're feeling down or stressed, and the other person makes a conscious effort to be there for them, because that's what they say it means to be in love.

Enjolras bites the cap of his pen, thinking. When he was younger, he felt more connected with his friends. They were his priority, and he was theirs, too. But as he grows up, he's noticed that's not longer the case, not even with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, whom he's known since they were ten years old. At almost twenty-two, he has no one to go to. Not really because they don't want him around, but because they already have their priorities sorted, and he's rarely on the top of them. All of them have a romantic partner -except for Grantaire, but that's another problem on itself-, and that means a whole bunch of things they have to take care of, along with their own personal lives.

It is a two way street, Enjolras supposes: they give and they take, but also have the gratification of all the emotional and physical intimacy and care that is expected in a relationship of the sort. He’s heard from his friends that lovers -lovers? Is that even the right word?- can be distant, unsupportive, or disinterested sometimes, but that’s considered a character flaw, something that must be talked over and fixed immediately, whereas in friendship it isn’t so serious. “They have different priorities,” they’d say. “It’s part of life. It’s _normal_.” Enjolras has nothing to offer to anyone, that's why he can't just go and pour out his problems onto his friends. He wishes he could be better with people, but he's not and that's just another thing he has to deal with.

"Enjolras, are you okay?" Combeferre whispers close to him, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You look pale, maybe you should go home."

Enjolras considers it for a moment. He's exhausted, and the emotional rollercoaster he's just experienced only made it worse. "No," he says firmly. "I'm fine."

  

Enjolras finally snaps on a Thursday. It's his last favorite day of the week because professor Lamarque, with whom he's doing an internship, chooses Thursdays to ask him to do things for him, like some research or analysis of data. The man is a genius, Enjolras knows all the extra work will be worth it, but he's also a little bit of a dick that doesn't give a fuck if Enjolras has exams that week. Enjolras had considered letting the internship for later when it'd been first offered to him, but her mother had pressured him into accepting it, despite the fact that he didn't have the time or energy to do it. When the blond opens the email with three pages of instructions alone, plus a heavy file with results Lamarque needs him to sort out, he hides his face in his folded arms over the desk and, with his hands clenched into fists, screams.

He's alone in the flat and the sound ripping his throat echoes in the room, even when his intention had been to muffle it with his arms. Tears are prickling in his eyes and he can feel the beginning of a headache nudging at his temples. He sighs deeply and lifts his head before staring absentmindedly at the wall in front of him. He wants to go to bed or maybe stop existing for a whole week. He chooses to press the heels of his hands over his eyes to stop the tears from falling down.

He hears the front door swinging open and tenses up immediately; he looks at the clock on his laptop and his muscles relax. It's Combeferre, coming home after his last class. Enjolras rubs his eyes and approaches the door, hoping Combeferre isn't too tired to listen to him for a while. He frowns and stops two steps away from his goal after hearing two voices coming from the outside. He pokes his head into the hallway and sees Noelle, Combeferre's girlfriend, standing by the living room, talking to someone in front of her. Neither of them notices Enjolras until they're close to Combeferre's room, which happens to be right across from Enjolras' own. The girl smiles at him and waves him hello; Enjolras smiles back, a little tightly.

"Oh, hi, Enj." Combeferre greets him. "Didn't see you there. Are you feeling better?"

"Sure," Enjolras croaks out, because there's no point in worrying his friend since he's already busy with his girlfriend. Combeferre doesn't seem to notice his weak answer, but Noelle does. She frowns and looks at Enjolras with pity, as she always does when he's around the couple. She doesn't immediately comment on it, and Enjolras feels relieved about that; he prefers she starts talking about him once the door to Combeferre's room is closed.

When Combeferre introduced her to Enjolras, the blond had reacted with polite indifference. He was happy for him, but tried not to get too involved in his friends' relationships and, more often than not, went along with what they said, unless they asked for an specific answer from him.

It's a huge improvement, Enjolras thinks.

He lacked a filter during high school, and therefore didn't hesitate to say exactly why their relationships weren't working and how everybody would be better off staying single. He'd lost many friends because of that, so now he's decided to agree with them without fighting back: if they are happy, their partner is the best person to walk planet Earth; if they aren't, it's definitely the other's fault.

Noelle is a nice girl, otherwise Combeferre wouldn't be dating her, but she has what Enjolras calls a severe case of "sticking her nose where nobody asked her to". It hadn't taken her more than a week to assure Enjolras was gay and in love with Combeferre. "I mean," she'd said to Combeferre way too loudly for someone trying to be discreet. "He's never had a girlfriend, right? You've never wondered why? And he's, like, really attached to you, that's... weird."

Combeferre had ended the conversation saying that was none of their business and if Enjolras was really gay, he'd come out to them when he felt ready. Since that day, Noelle has given him that weird look, like a mother dying to tell her son she loves him just as much. Enjolras, on the other hand, decided to give the couple their own space, staying away from Combeferre as a mean to save him some trouble.

"Your eyes are red," Noelle points out.

Combeferre turns to him immediately and that urges Enjolras to bring his hand to his face in a futile attempt to rub the red off of him. "Allergy", he claims, but he knows Combeferre doesn't buy it. Enjolras still hopes they just drop it, and it seems his friend answers his prayers.

"We'll be here if you need anything," Combeferre offers and Enjolras does his best to ignore Noelle's enthusiastic nod. "Anything, I mean it."

Enjolras thanks them and lets them go back to whatever they were going to do. Before he closes his bedroom door, though, he hears Noelle speaking.

"He was crying, wasn't he?"

The blond doesn't wait for Combeferre's answer and he readies himself for another sleepless night.

 

Enjolras doesn't get better in the upcoming days. Lamarque gave him an extension of time to deliver the data he sent him to sort out, but it's not much help when the man keeps asking every day if he's got it done already. Enjolras hasn't had a decent amount of sleep in the past week and he wonders how long would it take before he finally faints since he's not eating as he should, either.

He enters the classroom and flops down on a chair next to the door. He scans the place and finds Grantaire sitting at the back, chatting animatedly with Floréal, a brown-haired classmate that also works at the Café where they hold their meetings. They started talking there after one of those meetings a couple of weeks ago, and were getting along quite well ever since. Bahorel had mentioned he'd seen them flirting a couple of times, although Enjolras prefers not to find out if said affirmation is true.

This is the last class he and Grantaire would be sharing, but the blond suspects that, if what Bahorel said is indeed true, he can already assume he'll spend the rest of the semester alone.

He stares at them for a minute and catches Grantaire sticking a strand of hair behind Floréal's ear; Enjolras has to divert his eyes somewhere else, and it isn't until the teacher walks in that he feels someone in the chair next to him. He turns around and sees Grantaire's smiling face way closer than he'd expected. He rolls his eyes and refocuses on the board.

 _y the long face?_ , Grantaire asks in a small piece of paper he passes him under the desk.

Enjolras glares at him because he's not going to partake in that childish game, and writes down what the teacher is saying.

Another piece of paper finds its way to Enjolras' leg: _you look like you could use a break. wanna hang out after class?_

Enjolras shakes his head slowly to avoid drawing attention, but Grantaire pouts. The blond takes a deep breath before murmuring. "I can't. I have a lot of work to do."

"I can help," Grantaire offers.

Enjolras really wants to say yes, not because he thinks Grantaire can actually help, but because even having him around while he works sounds... nice. Grantaire could do his own homework at Enjolras' place, they don't have to be alone- No, he needs to stop. He feels a pang of guilt in his stomach. It's selfish to ask Grantaire to invest so much of his time when Enjolras gives nothing in return; he doesn't want to lead him on and make him think about something that's never going to happen. But Grantaire offered and he doesn't want him to feel rejected, either. He opts for letting him decide for him.

"If you want."

Grantaire smiles but doesn't clear up if he's coming or not, so Enjolras simply assumes he is. At the end of the class, Floréal walks up to Grantaire and he excuses himself to go talk to the girl. Enjolras goes out of the classroom to give them privacy, but is not so sure if he should wait for Grantaire or not; this is their last class and they should be going home together. He's forced to make a decision ten minutes later when Grantaire still hasn't come out and doesn't seem interested in ending the conversation with Floréal, so he resumes his steps toward the entrance on his own. He's barely at the beginning of the hallway when he hears someone calling his name.

Grantaire is running in his direction, the bag hanging across his chest hitting his thigh as it bounces with his strides. "Sorry, sorry," he apologizes, stopping next to Enjolras to catch his breath. "That took longer than what I'd anticipated."

"You're not going with her?" Enjolras asks, clenching the strap of his own bag.

"No, we had plans. Besides, I can always go with her later."

Enjolras nods and keeps going.

Once in Enjolras and Combeferre's flat, the blond confirms his previous assumption that there's nothing Grantaire can realistically do to help him. Lamarque's assignment is incredibly specific and Grantaire would need months of context to understand what he's reading. At the end, he just settles down on the floor of the living room to do his own homework, while Enjolras types on the laptop from his place on the couch. It's the first time Grantaire is there, and his eyes keep scanning his surroundings way longer than he probably should.

"So, when was the last time you slept?" he asks as if he were trying to find out if it rained last Saturday.

Enjolras tenses on the spot and clenches his hands into fists. "Last night," he lies, because that'll save him many questions.

Except he's forgotten who he's talking to and Grantaire's not the kind of guy that lets things go.

"Really? Because it doesn't look like it. Actually, I don't think I've seen you eating properly, either. When was the last time you indulged in such mundane activities, Enjolras?"

The aforementioned boy takes a deep breath and closes the lid of his laptop. "I only see you in class; of course I haven't been eating in front of the teacher."

"You know that's not what I mean", Grantaire stands up and snatches the laptop from Enjolras hands, taking a seat next to him. "Come on, you need to sleep. At least for an hour, you look halfway dead."

"I can't sleep... I have to finish this thing."

It is true, in part, but Enjolras refuses to sleep because he's had nightmares every day since last week. He is existing on pure caffeine, but he'd rather not to sleep than feeling that amount of add-up anxiety when he's alone in the dark of his bedroom. Grantaire looks at him with worry and holds the laptop away from Enjolras' reach. "Give that back," the blond demands.

"No."

Enjolras knows Grantaire is trying to help, but his stubbornness is making him nervous. "Grantaire, we're on midterms. Everybody looks like shit. Haven't you looked around?"

"I have, that's why I'm worried about you," Grantaire says because he's no one to know when to shut up.

"Okay, fine. _I_  am practically dying here, that's what you wanted to hear? I have a lot of things to do, alright? Just drop it, there's nothing you can do about it."

That was a blatant lie.

Maybe he's too cocky to think Grantaire was still in love with him. It's been months since Enjolras came out to him and, besides that conversation at the bus stop, they haven't talked about it again, except for Grantaire asking a couple of random questions about the aro spectrum and how far Enjolras' romance repulsion goes. In all honesty, Grantaire has been a good friend but, sometimes, he's a little too flirty and Enjolras can't help but to think he's holding him back. Now that he's seen him interested in Floréal, he doesn't want to deprive him of the chance of being with someone, romantically speaking, for clinging to the illusion that Enjolras will someday correspond his feelings.

"Okay..." Grantaire trails off. "Okay, yeah. I can't help you. But I refuse to let you do this to yourself. So why don't you get your head out of your ass and accept that I'm trying to take care of you."

"Why?" Enjolras retorts, standing up, and the look on Grantaire's face shows how out of the blue his question is.

"What you mean 'why'?"

"Yeah, why? Why do you want to take care of me? And don't say because you're my friend. Friendship has a limit, I know it. It goes as far as to ask if I'm okay out of courtesy, but never going deeper than that. Or offering help, but never actually being there when I need it. What makes you different? Why are you here asking me if I ate or slept when you could be out there doing something a lot funnier?"

Grantaire looks completely taken a back, but Enjolras won't feel guilty. He thinks he knows the answer to those questions and Grantaire's silence is just confirming them. that was why Grantaire staying single represents its own problem: he's holding onto the hope of Enjolras changing his mind. The boy in front of him has his eyes trained on the floor and his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. The silence stretches for too long and Enjolras wonders if it'd be too rude to go back to work. Grantaire clears his throat and that drives Enjolras' attention back to him.

"I don't know..." Grantaire mumbles. "I don't know, I just... I care about you."

Enjolras takes a deep breath and grabs his laptop from Grantaire's hands, who doesn't resists. The blond goes back to his previous spot on the couch and resumes his typing. "You won't get anything out of this, Grantaire. You'll do better investing that energy somewhere else."

 

They don't fight, exactly. After Grantaire left that afternoon, they resumed their friendship as it was before, except that Grantaire stopped trying to actively get involved in Enjolras' life. It's more like a casual friendship and that's fine, Enjolras is getting used to those, but he's starting to think maybe he didn't handle the situation as well as he thought. Surprisingly enough -or maybe not so much-, ranting at Grantaire had relieved some of Enjolras' accumulated stress. He's feeling slightly better, still tired, but the anger he'd been piling up in the past weeks is less like a burning fire and more like a mild fever he can deal with. However, that's also given him some time to clear his mind and the guilt he pushed back for confronting Grantaire is finally catching up with him. Even if Grantaire's crush on him isn't his responsibility, he shouldn't have treated him like that. After all, he'd been trying to be a good friend despite Enjolras rejection.

Grantaire is talking more with Floréal, so Enjolras assumes he's followed his advice. He wishes they fell in love, even if that means Grantaire will no longer be around Enjolras in the same way he does now. The other boy is still there to distract him when everybody else is acting all sappy, but their conversations are far less animated. Enjolras is considering releasing him from that duty as well, and he should probably worry at the undeniable fact that he'd rather being a permanent second choice over having to deal with Grantaire's feelings for him.

He's so absorbed in his thoughts that doesn't immediately notice the person sitting across from him. He looks away from his book and jumps in his chair after seeing Grantaire face to face. The boy smirks and waves his hand. "I come in peace," he assures and Enjolras would've glared at him if he didn't feel so overwhelmed by Grantaire's constant effort to talk to him. "I came to apologize, actually."

"For what?" _I was the one that yelled at you_ , he thinks. He's a jerk for not saying it at loud.

"You asked me why I wanted to take care of you and... I think you deserve the truth." Grantaire swallows, fidgeting with his hands. He doesn't dare to look at Enjolras and the blond isn't sure if he likes that or not. "I know you're not into the whole dating thing. With you being aromantic and all," he rushes to add and Enjolras can't help the grateful smile. "But I guess a part of me was still hoping you..."

"Would change my mind?" Enjolras finishes for him and Grantaire nods with a light shade of red tinting his face.

"I didn't do it consciously. I swear I didn't have ulterior motives every time I asked you to hang out, but you were right on calling me out of it. When you asked me why I wanted to take care of you, my automatic response was because I'm in love with you, and that's exactly what I promised I wasn't going to do. So, I'm sorry. I'll try to do better this time."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. That was uncalled for."

Grantaire nods as he gets more comfortable on the chair. He asks about Enjolras' internship and they spend the next hour talking. It's easy to go back to that friendly chatter, but Enjolras can't help but to wonder how hard it could be for Grantaire to maintain their friendship, if it's true what people say about suffering from love, and if Enjolras' presence was enough to hurt his friend.

 

Midterms are almost over, but Enjolras still has two exams and an essay to do. Things with Grantaire have settled in a casual friendship dressed up as committed, meaning they talk about mundane things every once in a while, but always sit together during friends gatherings. Grantaire has been absent to a couple of meetings and Cosette has informed them he's been going out with Floréal. "They're not together yet, but I'm sure it could happen any minute now!" she says excitedly. Enjolras smiles politely, although he catches some of his friends looking warily at him, Combeferre among them, probably thinking there was something between them. A common misunderstanding, but still, he's a little surprised when Floréal, wearing her uniform and brown hair tied up in a messy bun, approaches him one afternoon before a meeting. She's holding a hot cup of coffee in her hand that she then proceeds to lower on the table in front of him.

"I didn't order that," he says, weaving his hand.

"I know. But I thought you could use one." She's smiling and Enjolras can't help but smile back. She fidgets with the tray for a second, before pulling out a chair. "Can I tell you something?" He nods, dumbfounded and a little bit worried, but she's still smiling. "There's... There's nothing wrong with asking for a hug, you know? I'd give you one if I didn't know you'd feel uncomfortable, but... You have friends that care for you. Allow them to get close."

She waves goodbye and exits the room, leaving Enjolras speechless. It was obvious Grantaire had been talking about him with Floréal; he only hoped he hadn't outed him. What it really surprises him, though, is that she seemed worried about him, which means Grantaire is probably worried, too. He needs to talk to him. Now.

"Grantaire?" he calls him before the boy can leave the room. Grantaire stops at the door and waves goodbye at Courfeyrac who he had been talking to. When he retrieves his steps towards Enjolras, the blond notices he looks tired, as well. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

They sit at the table they normally occupy, Grantaire waiting for him to talk first. Enjolras has no idea of how to bring up the subject, so he does it as he usually does everything: straight to the point. "I'm not your responsibility."

"What?" Grantaire asks, obviously confused.

"If I'm, uh, not in a good condition. It's not your responsibility. I'll be fine, you need to focus on, hum, what you have with Floréal or whatever. It's okay, I understand."

Grantaire frowns and stares at him in complete disbelief. "But you're my friend," he says, as if he were talking about a concept Enjolras couldn't grasp.

And he can't, in part. He has very good and beloved friends, but he's had bad experiences in the past and he knows what happens when they find someone they like better. He doesn't say any of that, of course. This isn't about that.

"Yeah, but. It's too much to handle. You need to stop worrying about me, okay? Okay."

Grantaire sighed exasperated. "You know, all this shit could be over if you just... Ugh."

"Just what?"

"I don't know, man. Just let me... I don't know, be there for you? What's so bad about a little bit of cuddling between friends? I know you don't like it, but... It works, and I believe is good for you in small doses."

"But, you..." he says, dumbly. "I don't want to... hurt you? It wouldn't be fair to you."

Grantaire frowns before realization flashes in his eyes. "Okay, I get it. It's partly my fault. But seriously, Enjolras? I want to do this for you- for both of us? You deserve as much atention and care as anyone else. And I'm here. Just... give me a chance to be your friend. Please."

"It's a lot of effort in exchange for nothing," Enjolras says because he's stubborn and scared of getting his hopes up.

"In exchange for nothing? Don't sell yourself so short, man."

"Are you being honest?" Enjolras asks with a lot of effort. Grantaire nods. "Okay," Enjolras murmurs because, yeah, he'd like that.

"Really?"

"Yeah. But only if you promise you'll be patient witm me. And you ask first before a hug, and let go when I tell you to."

"Holy shit, are you serious?" Enjolras nods before shrugging his shoulders, trying to hide the fact that the idea makes him a little nervous. Grantaire, on the other hand, is practically vibrating in his place. "It'd be too much to ask for a hug now? Because I think I'm the one that needs it."

"Okay...," Enjolras is surprised at the lack of words he's currently in. Where the hell did his characteristic eloquence go? "Or... any time you need."

Grantaire's smile grows bigger as he shortens the distance between them. He hesitates for a second before encircling the blond with his arms. Enjolras stiffs in the embrace and it takes him a moment to fully surrender into it, wrapping his arms loosely around his friend. Grantaire rests his head in Enjolras shoulder and rubs small circles in his back, causing a shudder up his body. He pats Grantaire's back and starts to pull back. "I think that's enough for now," he whispers; Grantaire lets go immediately.

"Thanks," the other boy says. As they left the Café together, he snorts. "You know, it's kinda funny we've had most of our decisive conversations in that room, isn't it?"

Enjolras rolls his eyes.

 

.

  
**.**

.

  

  
.

 

   
.

 

 

"Combeferre?" Enjolras asks softly.

"Yeah?"

"I... I'd like to tell you something. If you have time."

"Sure, what is it?"

"I, uh... I'm aromantic."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure what this is but... I wanted to write it. Sometimes asking for a hug can be hard, but it's good to give it a go.
> 
> Also, amatonormativity sucks.
> 
> [[Other works for this event](http://anastasiapullingteeth.tumblr.com/tagged/aaw%2A)]


End file.
